Unlikely Places
by thelivinggirl
Summary: Welcome to Hetalia: International Mental Institution
1. Prolouge

**Unlikely Places - Prolouge**

"Good morning!" Crowed Antonio as he opened the door to the Vargas' room. He was greeted with snores from the beds on either side of the room. "Feli~" he trilled, traipsing his way over to the left bed, yanking the sheets off the sleeping body. "It's time to get up, sunshine!"

"Ve~, Antonioooooo," whined the Italian, "It's earlyyyyyy."

"It's the same time as always, Feli. Come on, if you don't get up now, Berwald will come in and-"

"Ahh! I'm up! I'm up! Just don't let him glare at meeeeeeee!" Feli bolted out of the room, once again forgetting his clothes. The cheery orderly sighed affectionately before turning to the other side of the room.

"Romanoooo, _mi pequeño tomate (1)_, it's time to wake up!"

"Urg. Shut up, bastard." Came the muffled moan from under the covers.

"Please, Romano? I'm sure I could find you some delicious tomatoes for breakfast~"

"Go away, asshole!" Romano rolled over to glare at him to emphasize his words, but only succeeded in making Antonio coo at his pouty, red face wreathed by the comforter. Before he knew what was happening, Romano was wrapped up in the orderly's arms and being _cuddled_. Blushing furiously, he launched out of bed and Antonio's arms. "Chigi! You fucking pervert! Get away from me!" Rushing into his clothes, he stormed out into the hallway.

Antonio sauntered out after him, only narrowly avoiding a naked Feliciano being herded back to his room by a chastising Ludwig. "Hurry up!" the tall German fumed at the auburn-haired boy, "If I don't get back in line, I won't get the third tray from the top. You have to keep order, and that includes getting dressed _before_ leaving the room!"

"Sorry Ludwig, I'll hurry!"

Antonio smiled and headed out to help organize the cafeteria. Amon, Varick, and… Alfred's brother were waiting patiently in line, but Francis was trying to grope Alfred, who didn't even notice as he unsuccessfully tried to convince Kiku to come out of his room, like he did every morning. Gilbert was bothering Roderich and Elizaveta instead of waking up Heracles and getting him off the floor, as he should be doing. Ishmael and Berwald were both in the process of waking up Ivan, a dangerous task that always required two of the strongest orderlies. Romano was verbally abusing Ludwig, who only wanted to get back in line, while Feliciano did his best to stop the fighting.

**WELCOME TO THE HETALIA: INTERNATIONAL MENTAL INSTITUTION**

**PATIENTS:**

FELICIANO VARGAS: Unable to cope with the deaths of loved ones, he is cannot process the emotions triggered by these events, resulting in repression, a perpetually hyper-cheerful disposition, and a pathological fear of being left alone.

LUDWIG BEILSHMIDT: Textbook obsessive-compulsive disorder; he has rituals and a tightly organized schedule that he feels must be followed lest misfortune occur. He gets very angry when anything or anyone that gets in the way of this schedule.

KIKU HONDA: Recluse. He refuses to leave his room, some days refusing to leave his bed. His fondness for cats may be an aid in treatment.

HERACLES KARPUSI: Subconciously rejecting even the _idea_ of making life decisions, he escapes into sleep whenever the mood strikes him, though most often when he is feeling even slightly stressed or upset. Result of childhood trauma in which his parents were murdered before his eyes by a Turkish mugger.

IVAN BRAGINSKI: Dissociative identity disorder. He has two distinct personalities, with potential for more; 'Ivan' has a disarmingly, some would say _creepily_ childlike disposition and an affection for sunflowers, warm weather, vodka, and his scarf. 'Russia', on the other hand, is violent and sadistic, insisting that everyone becomes 'one' with him either through personal choice or by force. Braginski switches almost seamlessly between the two, the only tell-tale sign being the chant of 'kol kol kol' that is heard upon switching from Ivan to Russia, usually when Ivan gets upset. Should be closely watched and _immediately_ isolated when Russia comes to play.

ALFRED JONES: He has an extreme 'Hero Complex', making him a danger to himself and others by putting himself in dangerous situations to 'help' an unwitting 'victim'. Usually results in injury for Alfred and occasional injury for passerby. He craves affection and validation through these actions, resulting in a harmful cycle when his actions result in scorn and anger from the person(s) he was trying to help.

FRANCIS BONNEFOY: Sexual addiction and egotistical delusions that absolutely everybody wants him, regardless of rejections of his advances. This puts him at high risk for committing rape or sexual assault unintentionally, and thus should be closely monitored and _never_ left alone with another person, especially one who he could physically overpower.

MATTHEW WILLIAMS: Depression. The brother of Alfred Jones, Matthew has a self-described 'habit of fading into nothing'. Medications have worked in the past, but either seem to lose effectiveness or have too many side-effects to continue use. Shock therapy is imminent. Suicide risk.

ROMANO VARGAS: Anger-management issues. Half-brother of Feliciano Varagas. He has same fear of being left alone as his brother, but approaches the fear from the opposite side by pushing others away so that he is in 'control' of their leaving.

AMON SEF: Mute, though whether voluntary or involuntary is unknown. Peers can coax a physical response, but he is completely unresponsive to authority figures. Mute since the death of mother in a building collapse.

VARICK GUNDMUNSSON: Sociopath, though thus-far non-violent. Only truly responds to his older brother Johan and Johan's partner, Daniel, though he seems to have taken to his psychologist Tino, and Berwald, an orderly.

**ATTENDINGS:**

ARTHUR KIRKLAND - Psychologist to Feliciano, Ludwig, Romano, Francis, and Alfred.

TINO VAINAMOINEN – Psychologist to Varick, Amon, Matthew, Ivan, Heracles, and Kiku.

WANG YAO - Pharmacist

RODERICH EDELSTEIN – Music teacher

ELIZAVETA HEDERVARY– Art teacher

KIMBERLY AHN– Psych student/intern

ISHMAEL CULL- Orderly

BERWALD OXENSTIERNA – Orderly

GILBERT BEILSHMIDT – Orderly

ANTONIO FERNANDEZ CARRIEDO– Orderly

**Translations:**

(1)My little tomato

**Author's Notes:**

**I'd like to say that, once again, this is a fictional fanfic. While I intend the events in this story to resemble that of a real mental institution, they are not going to be completely accurate. There _will_ be pairings in this, and though I know that relationships between mental patients or between mental patients and their caretakers is pretty unhealthy, this is just a story. I may get symptoms of certain mental illnesses wrong, though I will try not to.**

**I have included a couple of names that might not be familiar; Amon Sef is Egypt, Varick Gundmunsson is Iceland, Johan is Norway, Daniel is Denmark, Kimberly Ahn is Taiwan, and Ishmael Cull is Cuba.**

**I will be adding new characters and patients to the story as it goes, so if you want to see a character in here, chances are they will appear, even if they are just being mentioned in passing.**

**Also, reviews take less than 30 seconds, but make my entire day.**


	2. Sunflowers and Blushes

**Chapter 1**

Ivan snuggled into his scarf and looked around at his fellow patients from his seat in the corner of the cafeteria. The morning had been very pleasant thus-far; Berwald and Ishmael had woke him up and presented him with a very pretty sunflower as soon as he opened his eyes, and seemed quite relieved by his happy thanks. Breaking out of the brief memory, he grinned and gently stroked the bright yellow petals of his flower, which was resting on the table top.

The sounds of the ward washed over him, and though the sounds of Romano swearing, Heracles snoring, and Gilbert cackling were not soothing in themselves, their everyday-ness and regularity were comforting. Idly, he hoped he would get to paint in Ms. Hedervary's class today, fields and fields of sunflowers and blue skies…

"Hello, Ivan," came a kind voice, and Ivan smiled at Kim, ignoring Berwald, who had accompanied her; the orderly was only there to insure the young student's safety, not to talk. "I noticed you sitting here by yourself, and was hoping that you'd like to come and sit with some of the others."

Ivan's next smile was significantly larger, yet didn't reach his eyes. "I'm not sure I'd like that very much, Kimberly. You see, I've been having a very nice morning, and I'd hate for someone else to make it a not very nice morning anymore. You understand, да?"

The intern chose her next words very carefully. "Of course, Ivan. You have every right to sit by yourself if you want to… my, what a lovely sunflower!"

Ivan beamed, previous irritation forgiven immediately. "You like? I received it just this morning."

Kim leaned forward suddenly, clearly excited, causing Berwald to inch closer. "I nearly forgot to tell you! I think you'll really like this Friday's movie pick!"

"And why is that, Kimberly?" Ivan inquired indulgently.

"It's a very wonderful movie in itself, called 'Everything is Illuminated', but it takes place in Ukraine!"

Ivan's eyes widened. "Just like Katyusha, да?" His sister Katyusha was currently working as a farmer in the country, and he held great affection for anything connected to her.

"Exactly!" Beamed Kim. "And in one scene, there is an entire _field_ of sunflowers for as far as the eye can see! Just like all your wonderful paintings!"

Ivan clutched his own flower to his chest in excitement, eyes shining. "Kimberly, this is most wonderful news! Thank you!" In momentary forgetfulness, he leaned forward to make a gesture – perhaps to give her a hug – but Berwald suddenly moved the girl a few feet backwards and placed himself between them. "Yah kno' th' rules, Ivan. No tutchin' 'llowed."

After a moment of tense silence, the Russian sat back and smiled innocently once more. "да, I am sorry. I forgot." Berwald knodded, willing to acknowledge an honest mistake when he saw one, and moved back beside Kim.

"Is everything alright here?" A stern British voice enquired, issuing from a short, thin, pale man with heavy eyebrows and sharp green eyes.

"Just fine, Dr. Kirkland," Kimberly assured him, "Ivan just forgot himself for a moment when I was telling him about Friday's movie."

"Hmm." The doctor appraised the situation quickly, then nodded. "Very well. Ms. Ahn, come with me for a moment?"

After making hasty goodbyes, the Asian girl quickly followed into a vacant hallway. "Kimberly," said the doctor, turning fully towards her, "Do you think it was perhaps not the best idea to rile up Ivan first thing in the morning? I allowed you to choose this week's film especially for him, and now you use it to blatantly raise his emotions from a state of calm to one of excitement."

Kim fidgeted as she stood. "I'm sorry, sir… I just noticed that he is so very alone so much of the time, and I… I just thought that giving him something to behave for may _improve_ his behavior for the remainder of the week, and that the movie may give him something to connect with the others over." She hung her head, cheeks burning furiously.

Arthur sighed. "You did it with the best intentions in mind, and who knows, you may have accomplished what you were hoping too. You are just a very… _headstrong_ girl sometimes in that you don't think out every possible outcome of a situation, and instead focus on whatever you _hope_ will happen. Optimism isn't a bad thing, but it will cloud your judgement if you give it free reign. Understand?"

"Yes, sir." Kim said, forcing herself to look him in the eyes.

"Good. Now, would you like to say hello to some of the others before group activities begin?" She nodded, and Arthur tentatively gave her arm a reassuring squeeze as they headed down to the cafeteria again.

And if she weren't so preoccupied with keeping her own blush to subatomic levels, Kimberly would have noticed Dr. Kirkland's own cheekbones redden at the touch.

*.*.*.*.*

**Soooo... what'd ya think? Good? Bad? Ugly?**

**I really wanted to get Ivan's POV ('cause I love his personality), but I also wanted to develop Kim (Taiwan)'s character a little bit. And dear LORD, PLEASE tell me if I'm making her a Mary Sue? And BTW, 'Everything Is Illuminated' is a good movie, and also my favorite book of ALL TIME, by Jonathan Safran Foer. It even has a little unrequited slash between the two main characters, if you understand the book well enough!**

**Reveiws take less than 30 seconds, but make my entire day!**


	3. Tears and Cuddles

**Chapter 2**

"And reach _down_," the leather-faced lady with waist-length graying brown hair intoned from the front of the room, "and touch your toes… bring it up…"

_Bring _what_ up? _Alfred couldn't help but wonder, but he straightened up as instructed, allowing his fingers to trail up the front of his legs until he was standing tall once more, his fingers touching the middle of his breastbone.

"Reach out in front of you…" the woman continued, "And take all of your anger, your regret, all of your unwanted emotions, and put them into a ball between your hands." She demonstrated by cupping her hands as though there were a sphere between them. Subtly, Alfred looked around, inwardly snorting at the looks on some people's faces. Varick looked a bit irritated at the futility of having a sociopath participate in this activity. Matthew had a look of intense concentration, as though literally pulling feelings from his skull and placing them within his pale, shaking fingers. Alfred inwardly sighed, and made a mental note to pay _extra _extra attention to his brother today. Making Mattie laugh was now officially his Heroic Mission of the Day.

"Bring that ball in…" the woman tucked her cupped hands to her breast, "And push it out." She flung her hands in front of her, fingers splayed as though she had dispersed the sphere out into the air.

Casting a glance beside him, he caught Francis leering at his crotch. Then again, 'caught' implies that the Frenchman was being secretive, while in reality he was blatantly licking his lips and raising his eyebrows like they were the last two guys left in the shower. Oh well. Getting checked out by Francis was a daily trial that ceased to affect you once you're used to it.

"There now, don't you all feel calmer?" Varick rolled his eyes, but most everyone else nodded, albeit a few reluctantly. Should they be ashamed that this kind of crap actually worked a little?

So of course the Gilbert and Ishmael chose that moment to come in.

"Okay everybody, lunchtime!" Ishmael crowed, "No running, got it?"

All the patients filed out of the room, with Alfred dashing to the front as soon as the Cuban turned his back. Matthew sighed as he brought up the back; for a moment, he actually thought that his brother was going to wait for him.

"Jones!"

Matthew sighed, staring at the ground as he waited for his brother to get yelled at _again_, when a pair of shoes stepped directly in front of his. Startled, he looked up only to see Ishmael not a foot from his face. "Don't think I don't see you lurking, Jones! What are you up to?"

"But I'm not Alfred…" Matthew tried to protest, but the orderly didn't seem to hear him.

"Come on, you're sitting right in front of _me_ so I can keep an eye on you." A push to his shoulder was added for emphasis; it would have been nothing to his strong brother, but it was enough to send Matthew stumbling forward. Tripping over his own feet, he flung out his arms to cushion his impact to the ground –

Only to be caught and easily set upright by Gilbert. Matthew could feel his face heat up, and resumed staring resolutely at the ground. _I'm so graceless, so stupid, so weak…_ Still, he could hear Gilbert snap at Ishmael, "Dude, what the hell! You can't go around pushing patients!"

"Jones was up to something! Honestly! I was just trying to get him to move, it's not my fault he's suddenly pathetic enough that one little nudge bowls him over!" Matthew's eyes filled with tears at that. _Pathetic, pathetic…_ the word repeated in his head, each rotation stabbing his heart more painfully than the previous one. He sniffed, wiping his nose as it suddenly prickled with the feeling of mucus beginning to flow alongside the slowly dripping tears.

"This is _Matthew Williams_, you idiot! He's Jones' fucking twin brother! They aren't even completely identical!" In contrast how harshly the words were spat, Matthew was dully surprised at the gentleness with which the albino orderly brought his hand under Matthew's chin to bring his head up to show the Cuban. The blond sniffed harder and roughly wiped his eyes, ashamed of his tears.

"_Now_ look what you've done, you asshole! You made him cry!" He heard Gilbert hiss.

A quick glance upwards showed Ishmael's shamed face to Matthew.

Ishmael's brain was clearly frantically scrambling. "Oh _fuck_, I'm so sorry, Matthew! I didn't know! I thought you were your brother and–" he was cut off as Matthew began to sob and cry even harder, upset that now _Ishmael_ was upset and Gilbert was mad and it was all his fault because of his _stupid face_ and he _couldn't stop crying like a little baby…_

He heard Gilbert growl at the Cuban _just fucking go and help Berwald and 'Tonio, you're making it worse_ before, to his surprise, he was lifted up and carried swiftly into his room. He was deposited on the bed and heard the door shut.

He had no idea how long it took him to get a hold of himself, but got one of the worst shocks of his life when he realized that Gilbert was sitting patiently, straddling the desk chair and watching him. Matthew froze and stared right back, eyes glassy and doe-wide in surprise.

The albino broke the silence, voice strangely gruff and humorless in contrast to his usual cackle. "Feeling better?" Matthew nodded, still silent.

Gilbert leaned forward. "I don't mean _do you no longer feel so absolutely crappy that you need to cry_. I mean, do you actually feel _better_."

Matthew's eyes grew a tiny bit wetter as he shook his head no.

The white-haired man rubbed at his forehead. "I thought not." A pause. "Do you want to see Tino? I don't think he has any appointments right now…" Matthew shook his head again. Another pause. "Do you need anything?" Another head shake.

Gilbert stood from his chair, but rather than leaving as the Canadian expected, he walked over and knelt in front of where Matthew was sitting on the bed. "Is there anything that you _want?_"

Matthew made to shake his head again, but stopped. Before he could stop himself, his voice cracked as he asked, "C-could I please have a hug, please?"

The albino looked struck for a moment, but a slow smile spread over his face, his eyes glinting with their usual mirth. "You want a cuddle? Keskeskeskes! That is _soooo_ cute!" He sat on the bed and pulled Matthew into his lap, wrapping his arms around him and slightly rocking him back and forth. Matthew sunk into the embrace immediately, burying his face in the man's neck as he listened to him talk. "I give awesome hugs! I haven't given a good one since West was little, though!"

Matthew sniffed, the feeling of being held so securely after so many years feeling alone enough to make his eyes water again. "Who's West?" He enquired softly, not really expecting an answer, but Gilbert surprised him again by actually _hearing_ him.

"West is my little brother! You know him as Ludwig, aka Captain OCD."

Shocked, Matthew straightened to look Gilbert incredulously in the eyes. "Ludwig's your brother? But – you-"

"Yeah, I know," Gilbert chuckled, "I got all the looks, right?" He smirked and winked flirtatiously. Matthew blushed and embarrassedly looked away, but couldn't hold back a (embarrassingly girly) giggle, nor resist peeking back every few seconds to see if Gil was still looking at him that way.

He was.

And then he suddenly _smiled_ instead of smirked, and kindly commented, "I really like it when you laugh, Birdie."

"Umm," Matthew stuttered, cheeks hot, suddenly very aware of their proximity, "I-is it allowed for you to be, um, hugging me like this?"

Gilbert shrugged. "Arthur'd probably get his panties in a twist, but if Sir Smokes-A-Lot can push people," an ugly look suddenly crossed his face, "I don't see why I can't give them awesome cuddles to make it better."

Matthew smiled softly, ducking his head just a bit to watch his fingers lightly brush against Gil's white orderly collar. "Thank you, Gil. I really do feel… _better_ now."

"Anytime, _liebling_." Gilbert said sweetly, gently knocking their foreheads together. "If you're ever feeling down, you know where to find me, okay? I'll keep an eye out for you from now on." Matthew nodded, and Gilbert lifted him up slightly and placed him back on the bed, heading for the door.

"Oh and by the way, if you could do me a favor?" Gilbert paused to request.

"Anything!" Matthew replied eagerly.

"I don't want to mess up your therapy or whatever, but if you could maybe _not_ tell everyone about the hugging? It's just that… being able to be around West is pretty important to me, and I'm liking this job more and more, if you know what I mean… I'd really hate to lose it."

Matthew's eyes went wide with understanding. "O-of course! I won't tell anyone, you can count on me!"

"Whoa, hold on." Gilbert held up a hand, "It isn't life or death. You could tell Tino if you want to during a session – he's a good guy – I'm just worried about Kirkland and Roderich. Arthur won't like it, and Roderich lives to tattle on everything I do, so he'll definitely tell Arthur. And even if it _does_ get out, don't worry about it. My grandfather is friends with the owner of this place, he won't let me get fired. I'm just saying, don't… advertize. After all, my hugs are only for the most awesome of people." He finished with a wink. Matthew smiled a little and nodded in understanding.

Gilbert gave a half-salute and a mischievous grin and left, closing the door behind him.

Matthew flopped onto his bed, smile spreading across his face as he curled onto his side and wrapped his arms around his teddy bear, already thinking about ruby eyes and a curved smile.

It wasn't until rounds that night that Gilbert managed to catch up with Ishmael.

"Hey man," he leaned against the corner. Ishmael startled, but calmed down after seeing who it was.

"Shit, man, you're like a fucking ghost or something," The dark skinned male said. "And before you say anything, I feel fucking horrible about earlier. I honestly had no idea. I'm gonna get the kid some ice cream to try and make it up to him…"

Gilbert held up a hand. "I get it, it was a case of mistaken identity. 'S cool on that front. The real issue is why you would be treating Jones like a fucking criminal in the first place."

The Cuban scowled and rubbed at his eyes. "It's just… fuck man, I know this is fucked up, but I just can't help it. I know the kid has that 'hero complex or whatever, but…" he trailed off.

"I'm not a fucking mind-reader, Fishy." Gilbert reminded him.

"Don't fucking call me that, you 'tard." Ishmael growled. "It's just that… I'm _always _the fucking criminal with him! Like, more than half the time. I try to help a patient, and he swoops in saying that I'm going to _hurt_ them! I try to help _him_ and he tries to beat the crap out of me, saying I'm _evil_! And that motherfucker is _strong_, man! It's fucked up, but I'm just so fucking sick of him saying I'm a bad guy for no reason at all! I just get pissed off!"

Gilbert sighed. "I get it, dude. You just got to remember, the kid's sick in the head. It's not his fault. But… maybe you should tell Kirkland, 'cause it sounds to me like he's having delusions beyond a hero-complex here… it's sounding kind of…" he lowered his voice, "paranoid schizophrenic. Just saying, it might be in his best interest to get that checked out."

Ishmael nodded. "Thanks, man."

They stood in silence for a while. "…You can pay me back with some of that awesome weed you had last week."

"Hell no! Fuck off!

A/N: AHHHH! This chapter took on a life of its own! Still, I'm really pleased with it. I completely forgot how much I love writing.

And about Ishmael's nickname… Fishy… what? You don't think that _Ish_mael rhymes with Fish? *shot*

**Reviews take less than 30 seconds to write, but make my entire day!**


	4. Therapy Recordings part 1

Chapter 3

THERAPY RECORDINGS excerpts

*****  
DOC: Väinämöinen  
PAT: Honda  
2/23/10  
8:00

Tino: Hello Kiku. How are you today?

Kiku: I'm well, thank you. How are you?

Tino: I'm fine as well. Still, it would be nice if we could meet in my office, don't you think?

Kiku: … I suppose that would be easier for you. I apologize for the inconvenience.

Tino: That's alright! Still, I'm here to enable you to make that choice.

Kiku: I feel that I do have a choice. I choose to stay here, where I'm comfortable and safe.

Tino: Kiku, do you really think that is the case? People who can make choices are able to do things even when they would rather not. If you were merely making the _choice_ to stay here, would you have reacted the way you did when Alfred tried to force you out?

Kiku: *silence*

Tino: It's okay, Kiku. You don't need to be embarrassed. But this won't work if you can't admit that you have a problem.

Kiku: *long pause* I'm sorry. It's just difficult to admit to having a… mental illness. My family… doesn't really understand. I have brought shame upon them.

Tino: Kiku, the only way you could bring shame is by making yourself unhappy. Are you truly happy being alone, shut away like this all the time? You're missing out on so much. Before you know it, five years will have gone by staring at the walls in your room.

Kiku: …I agree. I am content here, but I'd like to be happier. I'd like to… *pause* if I may speak freely, I'd like to fall in love…

Tino: That's a very good goal to have, Kiku. Falling in love is one of the most wonderful things in the world. Now, I'd like to discuss with you the steps we're going to take in future sessions.

Kiku: If I may ask, have you ever been in love? What's it like?

Tino: *silence*

Kiku: You're blushing, Tino-san!

****  
DOC: Kirkland  
PAT: Beilshmidt  
2/25/10  
15:07

Arthur: Good afternoon, Ludwig.

Ludwig: Hello, Doctor. You're late.

Arthur: I realize that. I'd never be late unless I intended to. I thought it might be a good way to start off today's session. So, how about we start off with how you feel right now?

Ludwig: I'm irritated.

Arthur: I can tell. And why are you so irritated?

Ludwig: You know why. I have OCD, and therefore I cannot stand things breaking my routine. Luckily, this is a… minor infraction.

Arthur: Ludwig, I'm going to be frank with you; the little progress that you have made has come to a standstill. We're going to have to do something drastic.

Ludwig: *silence*

Arthur: I need to know you're with me on this. Ludwig, you aren't here for a vacation. You _do_ want to get better, correct?

Ludwig: Well, of course.

Arthur: …Ludwig, I'm your therapist. If you aren't completely honest with me at all times, I can't help you. Tell me the truth. Do you want to get better?

Ludwig: I… can't say I'm completely confident of… who I will be when I'm cured. All I've ever been for as long as I can remember is rituals and tidiness. If I take that away… what am I?

Arthur: Somehow, Ludwig, I doubt you'll ever be anything except a 'type A' personality, even when you move beyond your OCD. Just picture yourself being able to loosen up a bit, smile more.

Ludwig: *silence*

Arthur: Speaking of which… how are you still getting along with Feliciano? He has taken quite a liking to you.

Ludwig: He's messy, perpetually late, and a complete fool. He still manages to sneak past the orderlies and crawl into my bed sometimes. He's constantly _touching_ me, asking for hugs and _kisses_. He's completely absurd!

Arthur: Hmmm. And now, list at least five of his good qualities.

Ludwig: *Long pause* He's proven to be a good cook when he gets into the kitchen. And he is optimisticthough foolishly so. He makes up silly songs that are either about pasta or insults half the people in the room, but he's still… good intentioned. And even though his weakness annoys me, part of me enjoys taking care of him. And I sometimes feel better after his hugs.

Arthur: Really? This is actually great progress, Ludwig! When you first got here, someone touching you would end in you yelling or pushing them away. But it seems as though exposure to Feliciano has changed that significantly.

Ludwig: …it would seem so.

****  
DOC: Väinämöinen  
PAT: Sef  
2/25/10  
16:02

Tino: So, Amon, how are you doing today?

Amon: *silence*

Tino: That's nice. Though I would have hoped you were feeling better than a shrug. Maybe a smile?

Amon: *silence*

Tino: Thank you for the effort, Amon. I received a call from your father the other day. He's worried that you still won't talk.

Amon: *silence*

Tino: He says you answer the phone when he calls, but you won't say anything.

Amon: *silence*

Tino: You have a pen and paper for a reason, Amon. Why are you refusing to use them today?

Amon: *silence*

Tino: You do realize that if you refuse to communicate at all, you'll lose dessert privileges for the week, and you won't be allowed to watch Friday's movie.

Amon: *pause* *Sound of pen on paper*

Tino: *pause as he reads the paper* Amon, I know you have difficulties with your father. Why don't we explore that today? Now, you wrote here that you have 'nothing to say to him'. What do you mean by that?

Amon: *sound of pen and paper*

Tino: Ah. I see. Well, I'm sorry your mother had such an unhappy marriage with him.

Amon: *sound of pen and paper*

Tino: Amon, thank you for sharing this with me. I had no idea that he treated you and your mother in such an appalling manner. If this is the way he views you, why do you think he would send you here, to get better?

Amon: *Sound of pen on paper*

Tino: No, Amon. Try to tell me. Why would he send you here if he cares nothing for you?

Amon: *Silence*

Tino: Amon, you can do this, I know you can. Just use your words, and we can be done for today, alright?

Amon: …he has a new girlfriend. She wants to meet me. He doesn't want her to know.

Tino: That you have a mental problem?

Amon: *silence*

Tino: You did wonderful today, Amon. You can go now if you'd like. I'm very proud of you.

Amon: *silence*

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